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Grinding Gratitude

Continuously, reluctantly telling myself

I’m grateful I have a job and

Needing to dress up for the day,

I beget small trinkets of salary.

 

This accomplishment does not placate my soul,

The soul that seems to be rotting to the death.

 

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This entry was posted on January 4, 2011, 7:58 pm and is filed under Finding Purpose, Poems. You can follow any responses to this entry through RSS 2.0. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

  1. #1 by Life: Between the lines on January 4, 2011 - 8:00 pm

    lol…
    The soul only hears what it wishes to hear 🙂
    Thanks for the smile 🙂
    http://lynnaima.wordpress.com/2011/01/05/i-choose/#comment-1135

    Reply

    • #2 by Carl on January 4, 2011 - 8:08 pm

      LOL. My soul hears all and is the perfect judge of all that is good and bad. 🙂

      Reply

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